Feeling again
by Eponine Marie
Summary: The war is won and Hermione returns to Hogwarts for her final year, hoping that learning will help her to overcome her trauma. But as pictures start haunting her day and night, she soon is overtaxed. Minerva is grieving her own losses, but realizes soon that Hermione is struggling rather hard. Can they help each other to heal? Several trigger warnings, Minerva/Hermione friendship
1. Raindrops

**1\. Raindrops**

"LET ME FEEL SOMETHING, PLEASE! ANYTHING!" a voice yelled through the night, audible only a split of a second before being swallowed by the howling of the storm.

It was pouring with rain and the wind was raging on the crowns of the big trees beside the Black Lake, making the branches rattle. Drops of cold rain were falling on the small figure that stood at the shore, looking into the disturbed water. Raindrops that were running down the cold cheeks, drenching the figure's clothes.

A lightening cut through the dark sky, revealing the figure's curly hair. Hermione Granger was wearing nothing, but her pyjamas and she was soaked to the skin. Shivering in the wind she should be freezing, but she felt nothing. Nothing except emptiness, loneliness and hopelessness.

As mostly in the nights since the war has been over, she had been haunted by a nightmare, not being able to sleep any longer after she had finally managed to awake. As she had needed to be alone and to breath, she had left the dormitory and now she was here, on the grounds, trying not to think.

It had been like this since their capture by the Snatchers. Since Bellatrix had … but no.

During the battle, she had been so busy to survive and to save her friends, that she just hadn't had the time to think about what Bellatrix had done to her. What the torture had done to her brain. Oh, Bellatrix would have loved the effect her Cruciatus Curses had done to Hermione, how it had knocked through the barrier in Hermione's head. And now these pictures were emerging from out of the fog that had covered those happenings for such a long time.

She shook her head. Why was it this hard not to think?

It had been nearly three months that Hermione had returned to Hogwarts to finish her last year of education. She had hoped that learning would keep her from thinking, from having nightmares. She had thought that confronting the places where so many people had died would help her to overcome her trauma. Little had she known that it would get worse.

Since Bellatrix' torture, Hermione felt nothing inside herself. It was like inhabiting a body that did no longer belong to her. Her body had become her enemy, and she had tried very hard to punish it for its weakness and uselessness, but nothing had worked. She had even tried several things to regain her feelings but no chance.

Eying the dark water, a thought suddenly popped into her head. _It would be so easy_, it told her. _Just__ step into the water and then stun yourself. Or even better, leave your wand here and let yourself being dragged away by the Grindylows. Nobody would miss you; nobody would even know where you'd have gone. And you'd finally be in peace._

Hermione felt her feet moving towards the lake.

_NO!_ another voice roared, suddenly springing to life_. You won't do that; you won't give up like this. After all we've been through together, I won't let you finish it all like that. No, you will ask for help, right now. I've had enough._

_Who would help a useless Mudblood like myself?_ Hermione thought miserably. _With Harry and Ron at the Auror Academy, Ginny at the Quidditch pitch of the Holyhead Harpies and Luna travelling through the countries, looking for magical creatures? All my friends are gone!_

_Well, there's still Neville, but I know what you'd say. What about your Head of House?_

_The Headmistress? No, I can't do that, she won't have time for my silly worries and I simply can't tell her that … I just can't tell her._

_But still you should see someone, and she is your liaison teacher, being a Gryffindor. Go on, act like a Gryffindor! _

Hermione sighed deeply. She knew she needed help, but she had adored professor McGonagall since her very first day at Hogwarts and the simple thought of revealing her miserable state to her beloved teacher was nearly unbearable. Yet, something had to be done, she only was not sure how and when.

Reluctantly, Hermione began to walk back to the castle. The raindrops were running down her face like tears, but since Bellatrix' torture, she had not been able to cry, not even for the dead she grieved for.

_XXXXX_

It was already very late, but Minerva couldn't sleep. Instead, she was sitting next to the fireplace, reading the recent article in _Transfiguration Today_ and thinking about the three months that had passed since Hogwarts had re opened. She was glad that so many children attended school, even though the castle still was damaged in some parts that have been closed to the public. There were even some pupils of last year's seventh class that had returned to finish their education. Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger were amongst them.

Granger … Minerva sipped from her tea while thinking of her Head Girl. The girl, no, the young woman had changed a lot. This would not have shocked Minerva that much as the war had left many wounds and Hermione had been through more than most of the other pupils, given the fact that she had been travelling along with Harry and Ron for nearly one year on research of those Horcruxes. Yet the headmistress had a certain feeling she could not explain to herself.

She had surveyed Hermione during the last weeks and what she had seen worried her a lot. The young woman hardly ate anything, she hardly talked, avoided other people's company and even kept to herself in class, something that had never happened before.

Finishing her tea, Minerva put the journal back to her book shelve and stretched her back. She actually _was_ tired, but she knew that sleep wouldn't come. Instead, she decided to change into her animagus and wander around in the castle to check if everything was alright as she had this certain feeling she could not explain, that something was about to happen.

Some minutes later, a small tabby cat was creeping through the dark corridors, listening and sniffing in all directions. Twice a ghost crossed her way, greeting her politely, as they all knew her animagus form.

Suddenly, she heard a distant noise like a door being closed as silently as possible, followed by footsteps. The tabby cat hurried in the direction of the disturbance that seemed to come from a corridor on the fifth floor. The torches on the walls were lit, revealing a small figure that was wandering uncertainly along the corridor. Carefully creeping closer, the cat saw someone with long curly hair that seemed wet who wore pyjamas but no shoes. A pupil, without doubt.

The tabby cat passed the pupil, turned around and recognised the night wanderer at once: it was Hermione Granger. The young woman's eyes widened in shock as she seemed to know who the tabby cat was.

"Good evening, professor McGonagall" she said, frowning.

Within seconds, Minerva turned into her human shape. "Miss Granger, what on earth are you doing out of bed at these times? It is past midnight!" she said in her sternest voice.

Her pupil bit her lips. "I … er … actually, I've been on the way to see you."

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "My office is on the second floor not on the fifth" she replied coolly, wondering why Granger lied to her.

"I know" the girl whispered back. "It's just … I've changed my mind and wanted to return to Gryffindor tower."

As Hermione stood near the window, Minerva couldn't see her expression, something the older woman didn't like at all. So, she drew out her wand, waved it and said "Lumos!"

Dazzled, the Head Girl raised an arm in front of her eyes.

The headmistress could do nothing but stare at the young woman in front of her. Hermione was wearing blue pyjamas, very wet blue pyjamas. Merlin knew where the girl had been, on the grounds probably. The clothes were so wet that Minerva could see every part of Hermione's body, the ribs and hip bones, the collarbones, her breasts and even the nipples. Minerva took a deep breath and forced herself to look straight into Hermione's face.

The latter lowered her arm and returned her gaze with such an intensity that Minerva gulped. Now she realized that Hermione's face was hollow, making her wonderful brown eyes bigger than usual. But it was the look that disturbed Minerva most of all as it was full of sorrow and seemed to be a silent cry for help.

Confused, the headmistress took a step backwards and cleared her throat. "Miss Granger, I have not received an answer to my question of why you are out of bed."

Hermione looked at her naked toes. "I couldn't sleep, and I needed some fresh air" she said after some minutes of silence. "You can take points from me, I don't care" she added flatly.

Minerva eyed her closely and found her state of healthiness not quite the best. What troubled the young woman that much that she nearly gave up herself? "Miss Granger, don't you want to tell me what is hunting you to your dreams?"

_XXXXX_

Hermione would have wished the ground to open and swallow her. She had returned to the castle to go and find professor McGonagall, but on the way, she had lost her courage and just wanted to return to her bed. Unfortunately, she had run straight into the headmistress who, of course, questioned her about her whereabouts.

Thoughts thundering through her brain on what she could tell her beloved teacher, Hermione stared at the floor, watching water drops falling from her hair to the dark tiles. Still wet, her body was shaking with cold, but she couldn't feel anything. Maybe she would feel something if she told professor McGonagall the truth?

As if the headmistress could read her mind, she asked this particular question. Hermione nearly succumbed to the temptation to pour out her heart. But something held her back. Oh yes, she did feel something: she was afraid of the professor's reaction to her confession, she didn't want her to think bad of her. Yet she didn't want to lie.

"It's just some happenings from the war" Hermione replied quietly.

Professor McGonagall gave her a sad smile. "The war has traumatized all of us. Yet some wounds are deeper than others and whilst healing, the body and the psyche need much care of their owner." At these words she eyed Hermione closely who immediately felt rumbled. "I know that you are grown up and don't need a babysitter, but I want you to know that you can always come to me if you are in need of somebody who listens to you."

Hermione nodded, feeling frozen with fear.

"Now, why haven't you used a Protecting Charm against the rain? Here …" The headmistress drew out her wand again, waved it and within seconds, Hermione's clothes were dry and warm. "Come on, I will accompany you back to your common room. This time there will be no punishment, but I do not want to meet you again out of bed after curfew. Is this understood?" A stern look of emerald green eyes hit her.

"Yes, ma'am" Hermione whispered.

"Very well. Now, follow me, please!"

_~ tbc ~_


	2. Icy cold

_Hey guys, thank you for your reviews! I am really sorry for this long break, but it has been a while since I've had the time to write. Half of the new chapter has been ready for ages and now I took my time to finish it for you. I hope you like it!_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

**2\. Icy cold**

In the middle of December, the weather outside had changed from wet and rainy to icy cold. The heavy frost had transformed the Forbidden Forest into a winter wonderland, but Hermione had no eye for this beauty. The classes had finished for this day and she stood in a deserted corridor near the headmistress's office, feeling haunted, restless, nervous … always trying to suppress those pictures that her subconscious kept showing her. Until now, she had tried everything to occupy herself, had learned all her schoolbooks by heart as usual and read all additional books she had found in the library that were treating the school subjects, but it helped no longer. The memories found their way into her brain, devious and cunning.

There were footsteps, but they seemed to go away from her.

Hermione sighed deeply, wrapping her arms even closer around herself. She felt as if she would break apart, felt the urge to scream as loud as she could to stop herself from exploding, so she bit her lips and leaned her head against the cold window glass.

Suddenly, the footsteps grew louder and louder. And then a voice was talking to Hermione.

The young woman shook her head, no longer in a position to hear anything around her, blinking her eyes to chase away the damn pictures. And then she felt a soft touch on her shoulder.

In a split second, Hermione jumped away and, pulling out her wand, faced her attacker, being on the point of hexing the other person as she suddenly recognised her opposite.

With difficulty, she suppressed another sigh and hastily lowered her wand. Damn it, of all people! All those weeks she had worked so hard to avoid professor McGonagall's presence and look and just in this very moment, when she, Hermione, was about to break apart and tried to pull herself together, she found herself face to face with the headmistress. Hermione bit her lips even harder and looked at her shoes.

The said headmistress raised both hands apologetically. "I am sorry, Miss Granger, I did not want to alarm you. I don't mean you any harm! I was just looking for you because we have a meeting with the Prefects concerning the Christmas …"

Hermione did not hear a word as there suddenly was a high whistling noise in her ears. The ground was swaying, her heart was pounding so fast that it nearly hurt, and she was having difficulty to breath. _Oh dear, you are having a panic attack_, the reasonable part of her brain told her, before it was washed away by very muddled emotions.

_XXXXX_

Minerva came back from her last class of the day, a Hufflepuff third class, her mind on the meeting with the Head Boy and Girl, the Prefects and the teachers later that afternoon, concerning the planned Christmas party which should take place on the last weekend before the start of the holidays.

As she turned into the corridor where her office was located, she saw Hermione Granger, obviously waiting for her. That was very convenient as the Head Girl was the only one who had not yet been informed about the meeting. Lively, she approached Miss Granger who did not seem to hear her, because she shook her head before Minerva could even finish her sentence. Carefully, the headmistress put her hand onto the younger woman's shoulder.

Hermione Granger suddenly sprang to life and within seconds, Minerva found herself being pointed at with a wand. _Oh dear, I have somehow triggered the girl_, she thought as Hermione stared wildly at her. Soothingly, Minerva raised her hands: "I am sorry, Miss Granger, I did not want to alarm you. I don't mean you any harm! I was just looking for you because we have a meeting with the Prefects concerning the Christmas …" She interrupted herself, eyeing Hermione closely.

Something strange was happening to her Head Girl. With a sudden shock, Minerva recognised the symptoms as Hermione started to hyperventilate seconds before she staggered and was about to collapse: a panic attack, obviously triggered by her, Minerva's, touch.

Without thinking, Minerva stepped forward and caught Hermione just before the young woman hit the ground. But now the headmistress had a problem as she could not hold Hermione and pull out her wand to bring her into her office at the same time. Gently, she laid Hermione onto the floor, waved her wand and conjured a stretcher on which she guided the unconscious girl through her office into her living room which was hidden behind a big book shelve. After having laid down Hermione onto her sofa, she sent her Patronus to Poppy.

Two minutes later, the nurse stepped out of Minerva's fireplace. "What's the matter, Minerva? Are you hurt?" Then the sofa caught her eye. "Is this Miss Granger? What happened?"

"Well, I dare say that I triggered her somehow when touching her shoulder, because she started to hyperventilate and then collapsed in front of my eyes."

"Hm …" Poppy took out her wand and murmured some words. Red and white sparks were flowing out of its top, glittering in the air, telling the nurse things that Minerva did not understand. "Oh dear" Poppy finally said.

"What is it?" Minerva was really worried. All those weeks, Hermione had avoided not only her eyes but also her presence, had pretended that everything was alright even though Minerva could see that _nothing_ was alright. But with the girl refusing to talk to her, how could she, Minerva have helped her?

"Miss Granger is underweight; she has slept too little and is exhausted. I will keep her in the hospital wing for a couple of days and see how she recuperates." Poppy waved her wand to levitate Hermione onto a stretcher.

"Keep me informed, please, will you?" Minerva asked.

"Of course, I will." Poppy threw some floo powder into the fire and stepped into it, pulling the stretcher with her with one hand. With a whoosh, both women were gone.

Minerva remained seated on her sofa, staring into the fireplace without seeing the yellow and orange flames. Instead, it was Hermione's face that kept floating in front of Minerva's inner eye, narrow, gaunt and deathly pale. What was it, she wondered, that burdened Hermione Granger so much that she nearly gave up herself? She had watched the young woman closely during the last weeks and was not all pleased that Granger apparently rarely ate and slept but buried herself so deep in work that she did nothing else.

_XXXXX_

Hermione's head felt woozy and hurt but the rest of her body was rather warm and comfortable. A pillow, she was lying on a pillow, in a bed! But … she sniffed. Definitely not her own. Confused, she opened her eyes a bit. Everything seemed white. The hospital wing! But why … how …? Slowly, she remembered having met the headmistress and then … having sort of freaked out with a panic attack. How embarrassing!

"Ah, you are awake! How do you feel, Miss Granger?" Madam Pomfrey had approached, carrying a tray with some food and a couple of potions which she laid carefully on Hermione's bedside table.

"Well … like having been trampled by a mad Hippogriff" Hermione replied weakly. First, she had thought of saying "good", but she was quite sure that the nurse would have never believed that.

"You are quite in a state, Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey said sternly. "Why haven't you come to see me earlier? If you are having sleeping problems or you are suffering from a lack of appetite, there are potions to deal with those troubles! Instead, you have driven yourself to nearly total exhaustion!"

Hermione felt herself blushing and laid both hands onto her cheeks to cool the heat. "I … well, it is not …" She fell silent, not knowing what to say or how to explain her real problems without giving away too much details, details she was not yet ready to think about let alone talking about them.

The nurse gave her a piercing look, then waved her wand and drew herself a chair. "I see" she said while sitting down, "this is something more serious. Whatever you want to tell me, I will listen to you. And, to assure you, as a nurse and healer I am bound to maintain confidentiality." Her expression was serious but kind.

Hermione's heart was hammering.

_Tell her!_ a tiny voice was whispering.

_No, I can't!_ another voice howled, shaking with fear. _What will she think of me?_

_Who cares, she is a nurse, a healer, the one who is closest to a muggle psychologist! It will kill you if you don't talk about your problems!_

_But …_

_You do not have to go into details or even tell her the whole truth! Just … start with the torture. This will be enough, for the moment._

Hermione took a deep breath. "I don't know how much you've heard about the time when I was on the run with … with Harry and Ron" she started. "But around Easter we were caught by Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor. There I was … I was …" The words were stuck in her throat and she tried several times to clear it. "Bellatrix Lestrange" her voice was barely audible, "tortured me for several hours with the Cruciatus curse to … to get some information. I … when I try to sleep, I'm still there, I can see her, it feels as if everything is just going on and on and …" Hermione's voice broke when tears began to run down her cheeks. Shaky, she whipped them away, not being able to meet the nurse's eyes.

But it wasn't enough, the pictures wanted to be mentioned and they slammed themselves right into Hermiones face who instantly grew rigid.

Carefully, Madam Pomfrey stretched out her hand and touched Hermione's wrist.

Panic-stricken, Hermione wretched away her hand, looking at the nurse in horror who immediately withdrew her hand.

"Everything is all right, Miss Granger, you are with me, Madam Pomfrey, and you are in Hogwarts' hospital wing. You are safe." The nurse was sure that the torture, how horrible it must have been, wasn't the only trauma that hunted the young woman. There was something else, something that might have been triggered or activated or "brought up" by Bellatrix Lestrange's torture. Something, Miss Granger wasn't yet ready to talk about. But it must be this very trauma that caused her so much troubles.

"There is something else, isn't it?" Madam Pomfrey asked gently.

At these words, Miss Granger's face lost all colour and her eyes were huge with terror.

"Don't worry, you do not have to tell me what it is. But I am right, am I not? There is another trauma, a trauma that is hunting you ceaselessly."

Slowly, Hermione nodded. Both hands were clutching her blanket.

"Well, I tell you one thing, that you will only be able to deal with this trauma, to assimilate it, if you talk about it. I am willing to listen to you, but if you are not ready to talk to me, let it be someone else whom you trust. I advise you to do so soon, as the potions that I will give you, only suppress the symptoms but will not heal you, psychologically. Now, to begin you will first drink those two potions, then you eat something and then you take the third potion. I will keep you here for some days to recuperate – and to think about my words. I will leave you now."

Calmly, Madam Pomfrey left for her office, leaving a very confused and thoughtful Hermione behind. To whom could she confess? And what if those pictures were just her imagination? What if nobody believed her or worse, would laugh at her?

_~ tbc ~_


End file.
